


Endure

by PerfectlyHopeless



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, Templar Inquisitor, Templars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5124002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectlyHopeless/pseuds/PerfectlyHopeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The little blue vials sat on the desk, every day giving Devyn the same options. </p><p>Take it.</p><p>Don't take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endure

**Author's Note:**

> I've been toying around with the Trevelyan backstory, as it says that the youngest children are sent to the Chantry to become Clerics or Templars. This is my take on a character who already went through the initiation and lived as a Templar for a number of years in the Free Marches.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> ([Original post on my tumblr](http://kyla-writes.tumblr.com/post/132339026383/endure-devyn-glared-at-the-little-vials-on-the))

* * *

 

Devyn glared at the little vials on the desk, the blue glow of the lyrium just beckoning her to its side. She sat on the bed, leaning her elbows against her knees. The young Templar could hear the song in her blood even though it had been nearly a week since her last dose. Only a week and she could feel the effects of it completely. Her hands were clammy, she couldn't hold down her meals well, and the headaches. Sweet Maker, how her head _throbbed_.

She breathed deeply, licking at her chapped lips.

Take it.

Don't take it.

Take it.

Don't take it.

It was a never ending vicious war that the ex-Templar fought every day. Maybe this was when she would stop. Maybe she could be free. Free of the leash that bound her body and soul to the Chantry even after she had left.

A wave of nausea hit her and she doubled over, holding her stomach as she groaned. The room began to spin and she fell off of the bed, landing on the cool floor of her little hut. Devyn wrapped her arms around her knees, looking back up at the little vials.

Take it.

Don’t take it.

She pushed herself up and fought with all of her strength to keep going until she was wobbly on her feet. Devyn felt so useless. She was supposed to be the one that they looked up to. The one that they depended on. How could she be that for them when she was so broken, dependant on something that was ruining her?

Take it.

Don’t take it.

Devyn moved over to the desk, using the corner to stay steady and glaring at the glowing vials as her vision continued to swim. It had been a week. Only a week. The memories of her transfer to Kirkwall’s Circle were so vivid now. She’d had a good life at Ostwick’s tame Circle, being able to see her family from time to time, granted the position of Knight-Corporal. But she was stupid. She got mixed up with a another Templar, and when the Chantry and her parents learned they were angry. A Trevelyan woman daring to fraternize with men below her. She was stripped of her position and shipped off across the Free Marches.

The Gallows, they were called. She'd never seen so much blood magic in one city before, Ostwick having sheltered her from such things. With every mage she was forced to take down she could only see her twin sister at the end of her blade. Jane being a mage had never bothered her, and back at Ostwick she was allowed to speak with her. But Kirkwall was a madness that nearly killed her. Devyn saw how dangerous magic could be and suddenly everything made sense. The Circle, the true purpose of the Templars. She stood by her betters as the Champion of Kirkwall stood with the mages. When the Knight-Commander went mad and turned into a statue of lyrium, Devyn wanted nothing but to get away from the city. With Kirkwall in shambles she returned to Ostwick, her parents kept her safe for a couple months and the local Chantry giving her the easy job of being a guard to the building. They kept her stock of lyrium full until her parents had her go to the Conclave.

Take it.

Don't take it.

Templar. What did that even mean? The Order had fallen so far. She had been with them since she was a child, going to them while Jane went to the Circle. She could remember the way she looked up to them, excited as she was trained with a sword and a bow. She preferred the bow, but was proficient with the sword as well. With the Inquisition she was free to stay on the flanks, putting distance between her and the rogue apostates and Templars. She put down too many of them in those few weeks in the Hinterlands, feeling her hands stained bloodred from their lives. But she kept going.

Take it.

Don't take it.

She picked up a vial, the cool metal casing feeling good in her hot hands. It would be so easy for her to take away the pain, to be able to eat and stay focused. Devyn ran her thumb over the casing, her skin finding the lip where the top would twist off.

Take it.

Devyn stared at it for a while longer. She sucked in a deep breath and set it back down, pushing away from the desk. She was strong. She could push through. Not for long, she always relapsed. But for another day maybe.

Don't take it.

She grabbed her coat and went outside, letting the cold of Haven sooth her headache enough so that she could stand it. Another day. Just one more day. If she could make it that far she would be proud of herself. She could endure, and maybe she could finally break the hold it had on her. Maker’s tears, how she wished to be rid of it all.

One more day. It was a start. Devyn only hoped that someday she could find the end.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated and constructive criticism is my best friend. But you don't have to if you don't want to.


End file.
